


Vacilando

by SapphireTheFourth



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Base for any Genderbent pairing fics I do, Canon Genderbending, Genderbending, Genderswap, Rule 36 AU, Rule 63, Snapshots of this AU, genderbent au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-06-28 01:04:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15696990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphireTheFourth/pseuds/SapphireTheFourth
Summary: RULE 63 AU/GENDERSWAP AUEveryone in the HP Universe has swapped gender - are they different? What do they look like? WHAT are they even like to begin with?It's the same old story told with a simple twist, a simple twist that could change the way you see each and every character.Rule 36: "For any given male character, there is a female version of that character, and visa versa."Vacilando [Spanish verb] - Traveling when the experience itself is more important than the actual destination.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The Title means, my goal isn't to finish the cannon timeline with just genderswapped characters. I'm going the full ride. This fic will be the cannon basis for the future fics (Like a femslash!Drarry, Genderswapped!Dramione/Hinny/Jily/... or male!Linny/Pansmione) That's not to say this fic won't be interesting, I want to develop the characters into their new gender as much as I can, and we'll see how that fits in. But if you want to read some of my fics based on this universe, it'd be good to read this first, that's all. You'd get a feel of their personalities and stuff.
> 
> Or you could just read this fic as a stand alone. (Sorry for the long explanation)

Halloween 1981

 

_“Will, take Hattie and go! It's her! Go! Run! I'll hold her off!"_

Jamie was scared. Scared out of her mind. But there was nothing she could do about it, she had to face her. Or she would die. Liam would die- Harriet would die. Her own husband, her only daughter.

_No._

She wasn’t going to let Voldemort kill them.

 

[She swore to  _murder_  Petra if she ever made it out alive.

How could she have betrayed them?]

 

But it wasn’t too long before she was stuck dead.

 

Liam whispered to Harriet all he could, words of love and assurance.To make sure his baby girl wouldn’t get scared. He didn’t think he would be able to survive this. But he’d do anything to make sure Harriet stayed alive.

He’d sacrifice _himself_ , if that’s what it took.

He heard a scream downstairs and his heart stopped.

“N-no…..”

Shock drilled through him, fueling his terror even more. Tears welled up in his eyes. His Jamie was gone. _Dead._

 _God_ , he berated himself, **_she_** ’d find them if he started crying. 

He needed to be strong.

To save Harriet.

* * *

 

“Not Hattie, not Hattie, please not Hattie!” He cried, fear pulsing through his veins.

“Stand aside you silly boy … stand aside now.”

“Not Hattie, please no, take me, kill me instead —– ”

“Not Hattie! Please … have mercy … have mercy… ”

 

His last pleas were useless.

 

That night - a second life was taken.

 

Although Harriet Potter may have survived, she survived a orphan, a lost soul, alone in this terrifying world.

* * *

"Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall."

"How did you know it was me?" He asked.

In the place of the cat that had previously been there, a serious-looking gentleman stood there looking at Abigail Dumbledore in surprise. His hair was black and tightly gelled back and seemed medium length, and he had a short beard; he was wearing square glasses and a emerald cloak.

"My dear Professor, I've never seen a cat sit so stiffly.”

* * *

"Up! Get up! Now!"

Harriet woke up to sound of his uncle screeching, as he did every morning.

She’d been living at her uncle and aunt’s house for as long as she could remember, and she hated every second of it. Well, that wasn’t strictly true (the memory part that is, she completely hated the Evans), she could sometimes remember her actual parents, but whenever she stopped to think about it - a blinding green light seemed to come to mind, blocking out any other memories she might have of them.That light haunted her all the time, in fact…..she’d just dreamed about it! …….And flying motorcycles, come to think of it.

She’d asked about her parents before, the answer was the same - “It was a car crash.”  Uncle Peter always answered, nothing more and nothing less. After all -

 _Don't ask questions_ \-- that was the first rule for a quiet life with the Evans.

His uncle was back outside the door.

"Are you up yet?" he demanded.

"Nearly," said Harriet.

"Well, get a move on, I want you to look after the bacon. And don't you dare let it burn, I want everything perfect on Daphne's birthday."

Harriet groaned.

 _Daphne_.

Her cousin, and her tormentor. To make things worse, it was her damn birthday! How could she have forgotten?

After getting dressed, Harriet got out of the cupboard under the stairs and went down the hall to the kitchen.

There was Daphne, a girl with long blonde hair and lots of fat, who enjoyed no exercise except the art of the fist to someone’s face - usually Harriet, but Harriet was fast, and she escaped a lot. Which was considered surprising, since she didn’t look it. Harriet was skinny and small, and looked even more so when she had to wear Daphne’s old clothes, which always too big for her. She had a thin face, black unruly hair that reached her shoulders and a messy fringe. Harriet wore round glasses held together with a lot of Scotch tape because of all the times Daphne had shoved her to the ground or snapped them in front of Harriet’s face.

She also had a very thin lighting-bolt scar that spread across her forehead in jagged lines and cut through a bit of her right eyebrow. She loved the look of her scar, but it had always seemed to make people stare at her. That’s why Uncle Peter insisted on the fringe, and Harriet wasn’t disagreeing with him about it (shockingly). She hated attention. But she couldn’t blame people for looking, altogether with her light brown skin, crazy hair, and weirdly green eyes, she looked pretty different to her only living relatives.

Aunt Virginia entered the kitchen as Harriet was turning over the bacon.

"Comb your hair!" she barked, her eyes narrowing at the mere sight of her nephew.

Throughout her life, Aunt Virginia had tried to do many things to get her hair to lie flat, but it made no difference, her hair simply stayed that way -- all over the place. They’d even tried growing it out, to see if the weight would keep her hair down a bit, but no - even that didn’t work. In fact, it make it harder to handle.

Once, Uncle Peter, tired of Harriet coming back from the barbers looking as though she hadn't been at all and Aunt Virginia’s complaining, had taken a pair of kitchen scissors and cut her hair all off, except for her bangs, which Uncle Peter left "to hide that horrible scar." Daphne had laughed herself silly at the sight and teased endlessly Harriet, who spent a sleepless night imagining school the next day, where she was already laughed at for her old and tattered clothes and taped glasses. Next morning, however, she had gotten up to find her hair exactly as it had been before Uncle Peter had sheared it off. She had been given a week in her cupboard for this, even though she had tried to explain that she couldn't explain how it had grown back so quickly.

Harriet put the plates of egg and bacon on the table. Aunt Virginia got Harriet to do most of the housework and cooking as she knew that Aunt Virginia hated that sort of things. Harriet’s aunt was forever demanding that she make them more food, which Aunt Virginia and Daphne both ate to unhealthily amounts, and if her Aunt wasn’t shouting at her or getting angry, she likely be insulting Harriet’s mere existence. Uncle Peter didn’t shout as much, went to work and spoiled Daphne all he could, leading Daphne to grow up with her mother’s temper, whilst still being a daddy’s girl.

It was sickening to watch.

In the living room, Daphne, meanwhile, was counting her presents. Her face fell. "Thirty-six," she said, looking up at her mother and father, a tantrum brewing on her face. "That's _two less_ than last year!"

 

 _God, this was going to be a long day_.

* * *

Harriet stared at the letter in shock. No one ever wrote to her. Who would?  There was simply no reason to. Daphne had scared the rest of her class out of being her friend; the Evans were her only relatives…. Yet here it was, a letter, addressed so plainly as day:

_Miss. H. Potter_

_The Cupboard under the Stairs_

_4 Privet Drive_

_Little Whinging Surrey_

 

What Harriet didn’t know, was that this was the beginning of the start of her life. The start she should’ve had, but had snachted away one Halloween, in 1981.

* * *

 

"Who's there?" Aunt Virginia shouted, half-angered and half-scared. "I warn you -- I'm armed!"

There was a pause. Then --

SMASH!

The door was hit with such force that it swung clean off its hinges and with a deafening crash landed flat on the floor.

A giant of a woman was standing in the doorway. She had a mane of long, shaggy, tangled hair and black beetle-like eyes. She strode over to the sofa where Daphne sat frozen with fear.

"Budge up, yeh great lump," said the stranger. Daphne squeaked and ran to hide behind her father, who was holding onto his wife’s shoulder, terrified.

"An' here's Hattie!" said the giant. Harriet looked up into the fierce, wild, shadowy face and saw that the beetle eyes were crinkled in a smile. She couldn’t remember ever being called Hattie…..but she liked the way it sounded.  

"Las' time I saw you, you was only a babe," said the giant. "Yeh look a lot like yer’ mom, but yeh've got yet dad's eyes."

Aunt Virginia made a funny high pitched noise.

“I demand you leave at one!” Her shrill voice shouted, her face slowly going red.

“Shut up Dursley, yeh great prune.” The giant threw the gun straight out of her hands, and if Aunt Virginia wasn’t shocked at the use of her maiden name, she was now at the stranger’s actions.

“Anyway, Harriet. A very happy birthday to yeh. Got summat fer yeh here -- I mighta sat on it at some point, but it'll taste just the same."

A squashed box came from the her black overcoat, which Harriet took, hands trembling, and she opened it. A cake - _for her?_

“Who are you?” Harriet blushed, that wasn’t the ‘thank you’ she had tried to say.

“Oh! I haven’t introduced meself. Ruby, well, Rubeus, Hagrid! Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts.”

She looked proud at that, and made herself comfortable on the sofa there, grabbing bit and bobs from her coat to make a tea and some already cooked sausages. She even lit a fire with a pink umbrella- _how was she even doing that?_

Minutes passed as everyone seemed to just stare at the giant. As no one spoke, Harriet decided to speak up.

"I'm sorry, but I still don't really know who you are."

The giant took a gulp of tea and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

"Call me Hagrid," she said, "everyone does. An' like I told yeh, I'm Keeper of Keys at Hogwarts -- yeh'll know all about Hogwarts, o' course.

"Erm -- no," said Harriet.

Hagrid dropped her sausage in shock.

* * *

 

“Harriet -- yeh a witch.”

“I’m a _what?_ ” she gasped, not knowing whether to feel insulted or not.

"A witch, o' course," said Hagrid, "an' a thumpin' good'un, I'd say, once yeh've been trained up a bit. With a mum an' dad like yours, what else would yeh be? An' I reckon it's abou' time yeh read yer letter."

Harriet stretched out her hand at last to take the yellowish envelope, addressed in emerald green to Miss. H. Potter, The Floor, Hut-on-the-Rock, The Sea. Questions buzzed in her mind as she read more and more of the letter. She didn’t even know what to ask first.

* * *

 

"We swore when we took her in we'd put a stop to that nonsense," said Aunt Virginia, "swore we'd stamp it out of her!"

"You knew?" Harriet said. "You knew I'm a -- a witch?"

“Knew!” roared Uncle Peter suddenly. “How could we not? Especially being was my blasted brother was! He got his letter - one just like that - He disappeared all year, only back at summer to practice all that- that _rubbish_! I saw him for what he truly was - A _FREAK!_ But for my mother and father - _ohh no_ , they were _proud_.” he spat. “ _William_ this, _William_ that, they were proud to have a wizard in the family!”

He stopped, face poisoned with hate and resentment, seemingly that had been built up for years. Drawing a deep breath, he continued -

“Then he met that _Potter girl_ at school, they got married and had you. I knew you’d be the same... _abnormal_ and _freaky_. Then he had the decency to get himself blown up! And we - we got landed with you.” He finished venomously.

Harriet went very still.

“Blown up?” She whispered, her face draining of colour.

* * *

 

"Hogwarts?" Mister Malkin asked "Got the lot here -- another young lady being fitted up just now, in fact.”

Towards the back of the store was a girl with a pale, pointed face, and long silky, platinum blonde hair that was tied up in a slick ponytail. She was standing as a witch pinned some black robes on her. Soon, Mister Malkin was doing the same to her.

“Hello,” greeted the girl, “Hogwarts too?”

“Yes,” Harriet answered shortly, as she didn’t know what to else to say.

“My mother’s buying me my books, and my father’s next door getting me my wand.” said the girl. She had a bored, drawling voice. “Then I’ll dragged them to get me a racing broom. It’s _so_ unfair that first years aren’t allowed them. It doesn’t matter, anyhow. I’ll just bully mother into getting me one, and I’ll smuggle it in someway.”

The girl strongly reminded Harriet of Daphne.

“Know what house you’ll get into?” The girl went on.

“No,” Harriet said.

“Hm, I mean, no one _really_ knows until you get there, really. But I know I’ll be in Slytherin, all my family has. Imagine being a Hufflepuff! I’d leave straight away, wouldn’t you?” She laughed. Harriet disliked how casually mean she was being, even if she had no clue what Slytherin or Hufflepuff was. It was almost as if she didn’t even realise she was being rude.

“I say - look at that woman!”

* * *

Harriet looked at her ticket once more. _Platform Nine and Three-Quarters._ It couldn’t be right. She’d asked a guard, who told her there wasn’t one. She’d asked about Hogwarts, a train leaving at eleven o’clock. The guard denied it. Nothing.

She gave the clock a quick glance, _10.50am_ , she didn’t have long left…..

At that moment a group of people passed just behind her and she caught a few words of what they were saying.

"-- packed with Muggles, of course --"

Harriet spun around. The speaker was a short, plump man who was talking to four girls who all had flaming red hair, and a trunk (like hers) and they had an owl! She quickly pushed her cart so that she might catch more on what they were saying.

“"Now, what's the platform number?" said the girls’ father.

"Nine and three-quarters!" piped a small boy, also red-headed, who was stood close to his father, "Dad, can't I go... "

“You’re not old enough, son. Alright Penelope, you go first.”

The oldest-looking girl marched towards platform nine and ten. Harriet watched closely as she seemed to disappear between the barrier. All these people around - none of them were even looking in their direction! By the time the tourists swarmed past, the girl had vanished.

“Fred, you next.” the plump man said. Another girl, who was stood next to a girl who looked utterly identical to her, snapped her attention to her father. They both had really short, messy, flaming red hair; Harriet liked the look of it.

“I’m not Fred, I’m Georgie!” she said. “Honestly, you call yourself our father? Can’t you tell I’m Georgie?”

“Sorry Georgie,”

“Only joking, I am Fred!” she called out as she rushed into the barrier - and then - she were gone! But _how_ had she done it?

Her twin sister took a run up towards it too, and then she was almost there -- and then, suddenly, she wasn’t anywhere.

 _Damn it._ Harriet would have to ask.

“Excuse me, sir.” she said to the plump man,

“Hello, first time at Hogwarts? Ronnie’s new too.” He pointed at his youngest daughter, the last left. She was tall, thin, gangling, with freckles everywhere, big hands and feet, and a long nose. Ronnie had quite long hair that she tucked behind her ear as she smiled nervously at Harriet.

“Yes, but er, the thing is- I don’t, er, know how to --”

“"How to get onto the platform?" he said kindly, and Harriet nodded.

"Not to worry," he said. "All you have to do is walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Don't stop and don't be scared you'll crash into it, that's very important. Best do it at a bit of a run if you're nervous. Go on, go now before Ronnie."

"Er -- okay," said Harriet.

Running into the barrier, she couldn’t help but think about how solid it looked, there was no way she’d make it -- she closed her eyes, ready for the crash --

It never came….she opened her eyes. In its place was a  scarlet steam engine named:

_Hogwarts Express_

 


	2. The Top Of The Mountain Troll

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credits to the scenes that are straight up from the book. This fic is legit cannon, through and through. Just a complete genderswap.

 

“Anyone sitting here? Everywhere else is full.” 

Harriet had barely sat down herself when that red-headed girl - Ronnie, that’s it - had slid open the door. Harriet shook her head in response, so Ronnie sat down. Ronnie was wearing a black jacket, an oversized red jumper, and light blue jeans.

“My name’s Vernonica Weasley. But call me that and I’ll murder you, It’s just Ronnie.” The girl said, looking at Harriet, smiling playfully, but Harriet noticed she looked slightly nervous too. 

“Then - Hello _Ronnie_. I’m Harriet Potter.” The Girl-Who-Lived replied, wincing the second later when Ronnie’s eyes widened and she stared at her, seeming to be searching her face.

“Are you really?” Ronnie replied, speaking quickly, “Do you really have -- you know….” She gestured to her forehead.

Harriet pushed her fringe aside, earning her a more starstruck look.

“That’s where You-Know-Who…..Wow……”

“...Yeah….”

Uncomfortable, Harriet decided to change the subject.

“You’re family witches, then?” She asked, interested in knowing more about the wizarding world.

“Yeah, I mean, there’s probably one squib somewhere….but no one really talks much about that.”

“Squib?”   
“Oh - You went to live with muggles, right? Squibs are kids that aren’t magical but have magical parents. Kinda like a reverse muggleborn.”

“Ohh, right. My aunt and uncle and cousin are muggles. I wish I had three magical sisters.”

“Five.” Ronnie corrected her, looking slightly gloomly.

“ _Five?_ ” Harriet repeated, lightly shocked.

“Yeah, I’m the sixth to head to Hogwarts….got a lot to live up to really. Billie and Charlie left already, but Billie was head girl and Charlie was Quidditch Captain. Penelope’s prefect now, Freddy and Georgie mess around but they get good marks and everyone loves them and think they’re funny…. People just expect stuff of me, and if I do good it’s all _‘Oh well, they did it first.’_ I don’t get anything new either. Billie’s old robes, Charlie’s old wand, Penelope’s old rat. It sucks sometimes.”

Ronnie fiddled around with her jacket and pulled out a fat grey rat.

“Her name’s Scabbers, and she’s practically useless. Always asleep - even now! Penelope got an owl for being a prefect, but my mum couldn’t aff--- But, er, I got Scabbers instead.”

She blushed and her ears went slightly pink as if she thought she’d said a little too much. 

Harriet, thinking it would cheer Ronnie up, told her she’d never had any money before a month ago, she had to wear Daphne’s old clothes and birthday presents were practically non-existent to her. It worked. Ronnie's mood brightened up.

“.....I didn’t even know I was witch or anything before Hagrid told me about my parents and Voldemort.”   
Ronnie gasped.

“What?” Harriet asked, confused.

“You said You-Know-Who’s name! I’d have thought you, out of all people-” Ronnie sounded a mix between shocked and impressed.

"I'm not trying to be brave or anything, saying the name," said Harriet, “I just never knew you shouldn't. See what I mean? I've got loads to learn....”

They both talked for a while, and when the trolley man came, Harriet went out and bought some of every weird sweet she saw, as she had money for these things, the first time in her life. Ronnie mentioned having a sandwich, but Harriet shared her sweets with her anyway.

* * *

“Have you two seen a toad? A girl called Natalie lost one.” A boy with brown curly hair, medium brown skin, hazel eyes, a bossy voice and rather large front teeth was stood at the door.

“No.” Ronnie replied. But the boy’s eyes were glued to her wand, and didn’t hear her.

“You’re doing magic? Let’s see, then!”

He sat down; Ronnie looked slightly taken aback.

“Er-- alright….. _Sunshines, daises, butter mellow, Turn this stupid, fat, rat, yellow._ ”   
She waved her wand, but nothing happened. Scabbers was still grey, and still asleep.

"Is that even a real spell?" said the boy. "Well, it's not very good, is it? I've tried a few simple spells just for practice, you know, and it's all worked for me. Nobody in my family's magic at all, it was a  big surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of wizardry there is, I've heard -- I've learned all our course books by heart, of course. Surely, that’ll be good enough -- I'm Hermes Granger, by the way, who are you?”

He said all this very fast. Harriet looked at Ronnie, and was relieved to see by her stunned face that she hadn't learned all the course books by heart either. "I'm Ronnie Weasley," Ronnie muttered.

"Harriet Potter," said Harry. 

"Are you really?" said Hermes. "I know all about you, of course -- I got a few extra books. for background reading, and you're in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century. 

"Am I?" said Harriet, feeling dazed.

“Didn't you know? I'd have found out everything I could if it was me," said Hermes. "Do either of you know what house you'll be in? I've been asking around, and I hope I'm in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best; I hear Dumbledore herself was in it, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad.... Anyway, I’d better go and look for Natalie's toad. You two had better change, you know, I expect we'll be there soon." And then, Hermes Granger left.

"Whatever house I'm in, I hope he's not in it," Ronnie muttered, darkly.

* * *

“It’s true then?” The compartment door was open again, and there stood three girls. The middle one, Harriet immediately recognized - the pale girl at Mister Malkins, was looking at Harriet with way more interest than before. “Harriet Potter is in this compartment. It’s you, is it?”

“Yes,” she replied, eyeing the two ‘body guards’ beside the girl. 

“Oh - this is Crabbe and that’s Goyle.” The girl said, carelessly. “And my name’s Draco Malfoy.”

Ronnie coughed, but it easily could’ve been something else. Draco Malfoy looked at her, distastefully.

"Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford." She turned back to Harry. "You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there." 

She held out his hand to shake Harry's, but Harriet didn't take it. 

"I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks," she said coolly.

* * *

“So we just have to put on a hat!” Ronnie muttered to Harry. “I’ll kill Freddy, she went on about wrestling a troll for weeks on end!” 

Harriet was just relieved. This seems a lot easier than any kind of test her imagination made up, but it did seem a bother to have to do it in front of the whole school. 

“When I call your name, you put on a hat and sit here to be sorted,” he said, his professional and no-nonsense voice ringing in the hall. “Abbott, Harrison!”

A boy with strawberry blonde hair, stumbled to the stool, put on the hat (which fell right down over his eyes), and sat down. Then --

“HUFFLEPUFF!” The hat shouted.

A very yellow table cheered and clapped as the boy went to sit down.

“Bones, Sonny!”

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

“Boot, Terry!”

“RAVENCLAW!”

“Brown, Lancelot!”

“GRYFFINDOR!”

“Bulstode, Miller!”

“SLYTHERIN!”

Harriet glanced at the table that was clapping. They all looked slightly unfriendly and rigid, it was almost like those Royal Family shows that Daphne loved. 

“Finch-Fletchly, Justine!”

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

“Finnigan, Shae!”

Harriet noticed that some sortings took longer than others, and Shae Finnigan seemed to take a whole minute.

“Granger, Hermes!”

Hermes practically ran up, eagerly.

“GRYFFINDOR!” Ronnie groaned.

The girl who kept losing her toad was sorted into Gryffindor, but had run off still running with the hat, and had to jog back under gales of laughter to give it back.

Malfoy strode forward at the call of her name, and as she had predicted, not even a second later, it screamed “SLYTHERIN!”

Sortings went by, but soon enough it hit --

“Potter, Harriet!”   
Whispered clouded the hall, a sudden outbreak of mutters and excitement. Harriet could feel the attention on her.

“Hm…...Difficult...Very difficult…...Penty of courage, I see, not a bad mind either...There’s talent...Yess--- a thirst to prove yourself! That’s interesting….where shall I put you, hm?”

Not slytherin, Not slytherin…..

"Not Slytherin, eh?" said the small voice. "Are you sure? You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that -- no? Well, if you're sure -- better be GRYFFINDOR!" 

She took the hat off, feeling completely releaviled and shakily, she walked towards the Gryffindor table - which had broken into the loudest applause that she had heard all evening. A chorus of “We got Potter, we got Potter!” could be heard, courtesy of the Weasley twins. Harriet got a good view of the High Table, now, and her eyes were drawn to Dumbledore.

She had long, silver hair that surrounded her in waves, and was wearing a strangely patterned cloak. Once the sorting finished, she stood up beaming at all the students.

“Welcome,” her voice wise and gentle. “Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! 

"Thank you!" 

She sat back down. Everybody clapped and cheered. Harry didn't know whether to laugh or not. 

"Is she -- a bit mad?" he asked Penelope uncertainty. 

"Mad?" said Penelope airily. "She's a genius! Best witch in the world! But she is a bit mad, yes. Potatoes, Harriet?"

Harriet gaped. Food. Lots and lots and lots of it. She piled her plate to her heart's desire, and her attention was soon moved a conversation Ronnie was having with a ghost.

"I know who you are!" said Ronnie. "My sisters told me about you -- you're Nearly Headless Niki!" 

"I would prefer you to call me Lady Nicolina de Mimsy --" the ghost began stiffly, but sandy-haired Shae Finnigan interrupted. 

"Nearly Headless? How can you be nearly headless?"

* * *

 

"Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?" Harriet asked Penelope. 

"Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you? No wonder she's looking so nervous, that's Professor Prince. She teaches Potions, but she doesn't want to -- everyone knows she's after Quirrell's job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Prince." 

Harriet looked at here carefully, Prince looked the part with her pitch black robe. She had black pin-straight hair that brushed her shoulders, thin grey-purple lips, a long nose and a really pale and thin face. 

At last, the desserts too disappeared, and Professor Dumbledore got to her feet again. The hall fell silent. 

"Ahem -- just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. "First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well." Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley twins. "I have also been asked by Miss. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. "Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Mister Hooch. "And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death." 

* * *

Even more whispers followed Harriet and Ronnie the next day, and Harriet was really starting to dislike it. The teachers and classes seemed cool though.

Except Potions.

“Ah, yes.” Prince said softly, “Harriet Potter. Our new -- _celebrity_.”

Draco and her friends sniggered, and the register continued.

“Potter!” said Prince suddenly. “What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?”

You what? Harriet glanced at Ronnie, who looked stumped, but Hermes seemed to be almost bouncing out of his seat, hand shot up in the air.

“I don’t know, m’am.” said Harriet.

Prince’s lips curled into a sneer.

“Tut, tut -- fame clearly isn’t everything.”

She ignored Hermes hand.

"Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?" 

“I don’t know, m’am.”

"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?" Harriet forced herself to keep looking straight into those cold eyes. She had looked through his books at the Evans', but did Prince expect her to remember everything in One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi? Prince was still ignoring Hermes's quivering hand. 

"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?" At this, Hermes stood up, his hand stretching toward the dungeon ceiling. 

"I don't know," said Hariet quietly. "I think Hermes does, though, why don't you try him?" A few people laughed; Harriet caught Shae's eye, and Shae winked. Prince, however, was not pleased.

"Sit down," she snapped at Hermes.

"And a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Potter."

* * *

"Did you see her face, the great lump?"

Malfoy and the Slytherins were laughing themselves silly.

"Shut up, Malfoy," snapped Paavan Patil. 

"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" said Paris Parkinson, a hard-faced Slytherin boy. "Never thought you'd like fat little crybabies, Paavan." 

"Look!" said Malfoy, darting forward and snatching something out of the grass. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's pops sent her." The Remembrall glittered in the sun as she held it up. 

"Give that here, Malfoy," said Harriet quietly. 

Everyone stopped talking to watch. Malfoy smiled nastily.

"I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find -- how about -- up a tree?"

“Give it here, Malfoy!” Harriet yelled, but Malfoy was already on her broom and in the air, and could actually fly quite well. 

“Come and get it, Potter!” she challenged.

Harriet grabbed her broom.

“No!” Hermes shouted, “Mister Hooch told us to stay on the ground! You’ll get us all in trouble!”

Harriet ignored her. Heart thumping, she mounted the broom and kicked hard off. Air rushed through her untied hair, her robes whipped out behind her. This was easy! _Wonderful_ , even. She heard screams and gasps from the other girls, and a admiring whoop from Ronnie. A determined smile crossed Harriet’s face, and her eyes narrowed at Malfoy, who frankly looked stunned.

"Give it here," Harry called, "or I'll knock you off that broom!" 

"Oh, yeah?" said Malfoy, trying to sneer, but she looked worried.

For some reason, Harriet new just what to do, and she leaned forward and grasped her broom and shot towards Malfoy, who got out of the way just in time. Twists and turns later, Malfoy looked corned and she threw the remembrall  high in the air. Harriet dashed for it - she was nearly - stretch out your hand a little bit mo- and she tumbled into the floor, the ball in her hands.

“HARRIET POTTER!”

Professor McGonagall’s voice shouted her name, and Harriet’s heart dropped. She got to her feet trembling.

“Never -- in all my time of Hogwarts --”

Professor McGonagall was almost speechless with shock, and his glasses flashed furiously,"-- how dare you -- might have broken your neck --" 

"It wasn't her fault, Professor --" 

"Be quiet, Mr Patil 

"But Malfoy --" 

"That's enough, Miss. Weasley. Potter, follow me, now."

Malfoy’s triumphant smirks flashed her way as she followed Professor McGonagall numbly.

_ Damn it, she was going to be expelled. She knew it. _

Throughout the whole walk, the professor didn’t even glance at her, or say a word. Stopping outside a classroom, he finally said  _ something _ .

"Excuse me, Professor Flitwick, could I borrow Wood for a moment?" 

_Wood?_ thought Harriet, bewildered; _was Wood a cane he was going to use on her?_ But Wood turned out to be a person, a burly fifth-year girl who came out of Flitwick's class looking confused. She had dark brown hair that reached just above her ears, and a plain red headband above her side fringe. Harriet noticed the golden-ball-with-wings earrings she was wearing.

"Follow me, you two," said Professor McGonagall, and they marched on up the corridor, Wood looking curiously at Harriet. 

"In here."

“Potter, this is Olivia Wood. Wood - I’ve found you a seeker.”

Wood’s expression went from puzzlement to outright delight.

“You serious, Professor?” She asked half-surprised, her eyes darting excitedly between Harry’s and Professor McGonagall.

“Absolutely, she’s a natural. I’ve never seen anything like it. You’re first time on a broom, Potter?” He said, as if he couldn’t fathom the possibility that it could be.

Harriet nodded, silently. She didn’t know what was going on exactly, but she got the feeling she wasn’t going to be expelled.

“She caught a remberall after a fifty-foot dive. Didn’t even get a scratch. Charlie Weasley couldn’t have done it.”

Wood was looking as though all her dreams had come true at once.

* * *

"It's either really valuable or really dangerous," Ronnie said, running her fingers through her hair and then sighed. 

"Or both," said Harriet, putting more chicken on her plate. 

Suddenly, owls started flooding the Great Hall, and soon everyone’s eyes were drawn to a long, thin package that was being carried by six owls. To Harriet’s amazement, it landed right in front of her. A note was attached.

**DO NOT OPEN THE PARCEL AT THE TABLE.**

**It contains your new Nimbus Two Thousand, but I do not want everybody knowing you have got a broomstick or they will all want one. Olivia Wood will meet you tonight on the Quidditch field at seven o'clock for your first training session.**

**Professor McGonagall**

"A Nimbus Two Thousand!" Ronnie moaned enviously. "I've never even _touched_ one."

They left the hall quickly, but along the way they met Malfoy.

“That’s a broomstick, Potter.” she said, taking her hand off her hip and snatching the package off Harriet. Her face was torn with jealousy and spite. “You won’t get a away with it, first years aren’t allowed them.”

Ronnie couldn’t resist it.

"It's not _any_ old broomstick," she said, "it's a Nimbus Two Thousand. What did you say you've got at home, Malfoy, a Comet Two Sixty?" Ronnie grinned at Harriet. "Comets look flashy, but they're not in the same league as the Nimbus." 

"What would you know, Weasley, you couldn't afford half the handle," Malfoy snapped back. "I suppose you and your sisters have to save up twig by twig." Before Ronnie could answer, Professor Flitwick appeared at Malfoy's elbow. "Not arguing, I hope, girls?" she squeaked. 

"Potter's been sent a broomstick, Professor!" said Malfoy quickly. 

"Yes, yes, that's right," said Professor Flitwick, beaming at Harriet. "Professor McGonagall told me all about the special circumstances, Potter. And what model is it?" 

"A Nimbus Two Thousand, m’am," said Harriet, fighting not to laugh at the look of horror on Malfoy's face. "And it's really thanks to Malfoy here that I've got it," 

Harriet and Ronnie couldn’t stop their laughter as they turned around the corning, leaving; both picturing the look of pure rage and confusion on Malfoy’s face.

* * *

"Wingardium Leviosa!" Ronnie shouted, waving her long arms like a windmill. She sighed, annoyed and was about to try again when -

"You're saying it wrong," Harry heard Hermes snap. He looked bothered by Ronnie’s failed attempt after the fifth time. "It's Wing-gar-dium Levi-o-sa, make the 'gar' nice and long." 

"You do it, then, if you're so clever," Ronnie snarled. 

Hermes rolled up the sleeves of his robe, flicked his wand, giving Ronnie a last glance of determination and said, "Wingardium Leviosa!"

His feather rose off the desk and hovered about four feet above their heads. "Oh, well done!" cried Professor Flitwick, clapping. "Everyone see here, Mr Granger's done it!" 

Ronnie was in a very bad mood by the end of the class. "It's no wonder no one can stand him," he said to Harriet as they pushed their way into the crowded corridor, "he's a nightmare, honestly." Harriet gave Ronnie a sympathetic look, understanding where her friend was coming from, but not wanting to say anything bad about someone else herself.

Then, someone knocked into them and hurried off. Harriet caught a look at the boy’s brown curls - It was Hermes. Although it was quick, Harriet had seen his face scrunched up with anger and hurt, and she was startled to have seen - were there  _ tears _ in his eyes?

“I think he heard you.” Harriet grimaced as she muttered to Ronnie.

“So?” she replied, but she looked slightly uncomfortable. “He must have noticed no one likes him.”

 

* * *

Suddenly, Harriet grabbed Ronnie’s arm.

“I just thought -- Hermes!”

“What about him?” Ronnie asked, confused and irritated at the mention of his name.

“He doesn’t know about the troll.”

Ronnie bit her lip.

“Oh, all right. Penelope better not see us, though.” She snapped..

* * *

“Is it -- It isn’t dead, is it?” Hermes asked, breathless.

“It’s probably just been knocked out.” Harriet said, panting. 

Not a second later, the three of them swiveled around, jumpy, at the sound of a sudden slamming and loud footsteps. Professor Mcgonagall was stood there, emerald cloak and all, scanning the scene. His hair was ruffled and slightly out of place. Professor Prince was behind him, her robe doing that dramatic swishing that it always did and her face pinched and eyes narrowed at the Gryffindors. Then, Professor Quirrell tip-toed slowly into the bathroom, her purple turban ruffled and slightly wonky and face paler than usual. 

Their head of house was looking at Ronnie and Harriet, so angrily - in fact Harriet had never seen him so angry. His lips were white.

“What were you thinking?” He said, his low voice quiet and full of cold fury. “You’re lucky to have not been killed. Why aren’t you in your dormitory?”

Prince gave Harriet a swift, piercing look. Harriet looked to the floor.

Then, a small voice came from the shadows.

“Professor - they were looking for me.”

Professor McGonagall’s eyes flashed with suprise, but he looked at Hermes expectantly, waiting for him to continue.

“I went looking for the troll…..I- I thought I could deal with it by myself -- you know, because I’ve read all about them.”

Rony finally dropped his wand. _Hermes Granger, telling a downright lie to a teacher?_ She exchanged glances with Harriet, who looked just a confused.

“If these two hadn’t of found me, I might’ve been dead.” He said the last bit quietly, looking down at his feet. “Harriet stuck her wand up its nose and Ronnie knocked it out with its own club. They didn't have time to come and fetch anyone. It was about to finish me off when they arrived."

“Mr Granger, you foolish boy,” Professor Mcgonagall said, staring at the three of them. “How could you think of taking on a mountain troll on your own?”

Hermes hung his head. Harriet was speechless. 

“Five points will be taken from Gryffindor, Mr Granger. I’m very disappointed in you. Head off to the Gryffindor tower if you are not hurt. Students are finishing the feast in their houses.”

Hermes left.

“As for you girls.  I still say you were lucky, but not many first years could have taken on a full-grown mountain troll. You each win Gryffindor five points. Professor Dumbledore will be informed of this. You may go."

 

But from that moment on, Hermes Granger became their friend. There are some things you can't share without ending up liking each other, and knocking out a twelve-foot mountain troll is one of them.

 

**NOTES: Skip this if you want, but I'm going to talk about the appearances of the characters. I've based some of them on cosplays and fanarts, cause there's some really cool stuff out there.**

**Olivia Wood -Found[here](http://masksofmickey.tumblr.com/post/176950945008/olivia-wood-is-online-and-working-through-some)    What do you guys think? I really liked her cosplay, personally (.....obviously, you stupid writer, that's why you chose it)**

**I mentioned it last chapter, but I gave the Weasley Twins pretty short hair - I just thought it'd look fun and it'd suit 'em. Agree/Disagree?**

**Basically - my characters will look similar to this but Hermione and Harry have slightly darker skin, but not much.**

**Credits to[the artist](https://www.deviantart.com/maaria/art/Harriet-Potter-267897457)**

**Snape/Prince looks pretty identical, I'd like to imagine she used to have longer hair, but after becoming a potions master, she got it cut shoulder-length so it wouldn't get in the way and she hated putting her hair up - so that wasn't an option.**

**Voldemort will look exactly like that, similar to her male version, but a more angular and feminine face, with killer cheekbones.**

**So that's all! More as we go along, but that's all for now.**

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts? Opinions? Comment and share, thanks!


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